


Sharing

by silentdescant



Series: Promptember [15]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Foursome, M/M, Masturbation, Role Reversal, SePTXCC17, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 11:07:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12107403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: This isn't their usual thing.





	Sharing

This isn’t their usual thing, Mitch thinks as he lowers himself into the chair. This isn’t his usual spot in his bedroom; it’s almost painfully far away, and it’s hard to arrange himself in a way that’s both sexy and comfortable. He spreads his legs and rests his left hand on his thigh, then brings his right to his mouth to nibble on a fingernail. This is weird. This isn’t how they usually do it.

Usually it’s Mitch on the bed. Usually it’s him with a new boy—or boys, once, memorably—and Scott over here on this chair, removed from the action. Usually Mitch doesn’t have to think about anything; usually he’s overwhelmed and being touched and can barely summon the willpower to open his eyes and meet Scott’s heavy gaze from across the room.

This time it’s different.

This time Scott’s on the bed, and he’s not alone. This time it’s Mitch staring longingly, his mouth watering for a taste of sweat-glistening skin. This time it’s a chorus of panting, desperate breaths over the low music playing from Mitch’s speakers.

Piece by piece, bits of clothing hits the floor, revealing an array of skin tones that don’t match. Mitch watches Scott’s hands, watches the imprints of his fingers on various body parts. He watches Scott’s nails dig into Mason’s shoulder and leave little faint, pink crescent moons. He watches Scott’s thumb press into Mark’s thickly muscled thigh hard enough to indent the skin.

Mitch desperately wants those hands on his own body, but this time, for the first time, it’s not about him.

He settles for stroking himself, pressing his palm against his hard cock through his briefs, rubbing distractedly until precome dampens the fabric. It pains him not to cross the room, not to climb onto the bed and insert himself into the tangle of limbs and mouths. He wants to feel the twin beard burn of Scott and Mason as they kiss him, but they’re both kissing Mark instead, and each other, and it’s all Mitch can do to simply watch it happen.

He shoves his underwear down his legs and rearranges himself on the chair, gripping the seat by his thigh with one hand, clenched tight enough that he’s sure the upholstery will rip under his nails. With his left hand he holds his cock, squeezes and pulls and tries to rein himself in, because this feels like it’s too soon, like he’s he odd man out by being this close to an orgasm already.

He is the odd man out, he realizes. And it’s okay.

Scott throws his head back with a sharp gasp as one of the boys does something Mitch can’t see. Mitch focuses on Scott’s parted lips, glistening and flushed darker pink than normal. Mitch would give anything to kiss him right now, to swallow those soft noises he’s making.

Mark gets to him, though, and takes Scott’s face in both hands to kiss him while Mason’s buried between them. Scott’s clinging desperately to Mark’s shoulder, to the back of Mason’s head. He falls backward, sprawling against Mitch’s pillow.

This isn’t their usual thing and honestly, Mitch isn’t sure how Scott handles it, when their roles are reversed. How does he sit here, how does he restrain himself? Mitch never fully appreciated the self-control Scott exhibits every time they bring someone home. It’s _so hard_ for Mitch to keep himself in check.

Scott’s eyes are narrowed to slits, but Mitch can feel his gaze latch onto him. He meets Scott’s hazy stare and bites his lip. Scott’s watching him touch himself. Scott’s making him a part of this now, like Mitch often does when he’s on the bed, dazed with pleasure. Mitch feels caught, unable to move.

Until he sees Scott’s lips moving. It doesn’t matter what Scott is actually saying, if he’s saying words at all, because Mitch reads the command in his expression. He reads the acceptance and the desire plainly writ there in Scott’s flushed face.

Mitch drops his gaze and grips his cock tightly and comes all over his hand. He’s breathless with it, shoulders heaving, and on the bed, the threesome continues on, separate. Like Mitch isn’t part of it, because he isn’t.

Except that he is, because Scott made it so. Because they’re always a part of it, with each other.

 

 _fin_.


End file.
